


If You See Something, Do Something

by footsieinthegarden



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Awareness Week, Asexual Enjolras, Established Relationship, M/M, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 04:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16360403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footsieinthegarden/pseuds/footsieinthegarden
Summary: Grantaire sets out to support Enjolras and ends up supporting Jehan instead. Which is exactly what Enjolras wants.For Asexual Awareness Week





	If You See Something, Do Something

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Asexual Awareness Week! I debated whether writing a more plot-driven (well, "plot-driven") fic was acceptable instead of something heavily focused on ace!jolras, but I decided there's nothing wrong with showing an ace person just living their life! 
> 
> I realize Banksy is a problematic person (though I'd never heard of him before this incident!), but I really know nothing about him. There also was a real record set for top sale by a living female artist that got totally overshadowed, so obviously I had to fix it.
> 
> A few passing, non-specific mentions of the Enjolras's parents are mean trope.
> 
> Also this is totally Exhibit A if anyone wants to make a Contrived Plot Awareness Week.

“Are you ready for me to unveil my masterpiece?”

Enjolras turned the page of his book without looking up. “I thought you said it was going to be a surprise.” 

“No, I said there was going to be a surprise. But given how your shoulders are currently covering your ears, I can see how you missed that part.” Enjolras relaxed and sighed a little in relief, and a little in surprise. He turned to Grantaire, whose very knowing look softened after only a moment. “We can cancel if you want to. I don’t actually have to be there.” 

Enjolras sighed and set his book down on the coffee table, mostly so he could run both hands through his hair. “No, I’ll be damned if I skip something so important to you because I would rather not be in the same room as my parents. I can, as Courf says, put my big boy pants on.”

“Well, I personally have no problem if you want to go pants free. Also consider the bonus of giving your parents simultaneous aneurysms and then never having to deal with them again.” 

Enjolras laughed and reached to give Grantaire’s hand a squeeze. “I think I will go fully clothed. Though there’s probably a non-zero chance whatever Jehan decides to wear will accomplish your goal.” 

Grantaire squeezed back and brightened. “They have all sorts of weird experimental poems memorized if they can manage to corner your parents.” 

Enjolras laughed again and pulled Grantaire in this time, close enough to kiss his forehead. Grantaire made a happy sound and was pink when Enjolras released him. “Now, you said something about a surprise?” he prompted when Grantaire seemed a little stuck. 

His husband recovered enough to smirk and raise his eyebrows. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you it was a sexy surprise.” Enjolras learned backwards on the couch and closed his eyes.

“What? Is it just going to be pornography? Tastefully done, of course,” Enjolras added quickly.

“Oh my God, you are seriously impossible.”

“What, because you’ve tried to explain sexiness as an abstract concept to me so many times and I still don’t get it?”

“No, I was going to say because you always insist on calling it pornography when that’s like eight extra syllables. I’m sure Combeferre would give you a gold star.”

“Just don’t mention it in front of Courf. I’m still scarred from the time he described the one with the orange. I still don’t believe you that he wasn’t making it up just to push my buttons.”

Grantaire snorted. “To be fair, they are very easy to push.” He left to go retrieve his painting. 

“That’s just abstract!” Enjolras protested when Grantaire brought it out. His husband only laughed and pushed him into their room to change. Grantaire barely pretended to putter around as he watched Enjolras put on his suit, not that Enjolras really minded, especially not when Grantaire came over to do his tie for him. “Am I allowed to ask what part Feuilly helped with?” 

“Mm, that’s another part of the surprise, I’m afraid.” 

“If you say so,” Enjolras agreed, and Grantaire looked at him rather suspiciously. He still let Enjolras help him carry the painting down the street and into their taxi. Enjolras was surprised how heavy it was for its size, but he didn’t give it too much thought since he was routinely surprised by art-related things. Besides, he needed the distraction and enjoyment of holding Grantaire’s hand on the way over.

After a quick kiss to Grantaire’s cheek, Enjolras made himself scarce while Grantaire dealt with the business side of things. He didn’t see his parents anywhere, but as he started to wander around he felt the eyes of their peers following him. He didn’t recognize anyone in passing, but he did wonder how many of them had known him as a child; after all, his appearance hadn’t changed all that much. The stares intensified when Grantaire returned and put an arm around his waist. 

“Fun fact, your parents are far too busy hob-knobbing with the organizers to pay you any attention. Another fun fact, I might actually be invisible. Your guess on how these are related.”

“You want to test that theory?” Enjolras asked even as he felt himself flush. Grantaire glanced around. “Never mind, I don’t want to hurt your sales.”

“Enjolras, I will throw all my work in the trash for the chance to publicly kiss you in service of your righteous fury.”

“Grantaire-” Enjolras was cut off with a gentle kiss to the mouth. It only lasted a few seconds, and was nice enough. The true pleasure was in Grantaire’s smile and blush when they separated. The way many of the other patrons around them had abruptly turned away didn’t hurt either. 

“Good evening.” Enjolras jumped but Grantaire only laughed as Jehan materialized in front of them. “R, I expect you to give a truly wonderful eulogy at my funeral after Courf has my head for not getting a picture of that.” 

The three of them walked a circuit together, and at least this time Enjolras was confident the stares were due to Jehan’s mismatching suit. “I presume this is yours?” Enjolras asked when they paused in front of a rather garish multimedia piece featuring fragments of poetry. Grantaire shushed him as Jehan gave a tiny nod.

“It’s supposed to be anonymous. That’s part of the event,” Grantaire explained quietly. When they passed Grantaire’s piece, Enjolras squeezed his hand a few times and didn’t miss his husband’s small smile. 

Finally, it was time for the auction segment of the night to begin. Enjolras settled into his seat near the back, with Grantaire between him and Jehan. They whispered together for a minute, and a small remote appeared in Grantaire’s hand. Enjolras looked quizzically at Grantaire, who motioned him in to whisper conspiratorially, “Would you believe me if I said it’s for a vibrator?”

Enjolras just kept a sigh from escaping. “Yes, probably. Not that I’d want to know any gory details.” Grantaire snorted and folded it up between his hands. He and Jehan continued to whisper every so often and Enjolras let himself zone out, thinking about the next six or seven articles he wanted to pitch. He carefully didn’t look at where his parents were sitting up front and spending an absurd amount on absurd art. That was an unreasonable criticism given his husband’s profession, but he didn’t stop stewing on it, either. 

It only intensified when Grantaire’s painting was brought up and his parents quickly entered a bidding war. He knew perfectly well the funds would allow him to comfortably continue his activism, and that his parents would hate the idea that that was what their money was doing, but he hated the idea of his parents displaying the work of someone they pretended didn’t exist even more. Grantaire had gone quiet next to him, his face blank, even when the hammer came down to finalize an amazing price. Enjolras searched for the right thing to say, when a distant whirring made him turn. A gasp rolled back in a wave towards them as the painting began to shred itself through the bottom of the frame.

No wonder Feuilly had been involved. 

Enjolras quickly rearranged his expression to reflect the horror of those around him, though he couldn’t hope to match the way his parents looked extremely ill. Phones came out everywhere, including Grantaire’s, and for awhile Enjolras thought the auction would end prematurely, because he didn’t see how order could be restored; maybe if his parents weren’t so heavily involved, he would’ve offered his speech-making voice to the effort, but instead he just sat back and enjoyed the chaos. 

After a solid half hour, some sort of normalcy was restored, and the auction restarted, though the bidding was a little timid for the next few pieces. Enjolras thought his mother had lost about five years off her life. Grantaire still gave no sign, until Jehan’s piece sold, when he leaned over to whisper urgently with them. 

It was an effort to still say nothing, to still not tell Grantaire how wonderful he was, when the auction ended, though it was a prudent choice when he realized a police officer was milling about the lobby of the gallery, frothing at the mouth to take statements. Grantaire touched Enjolras’s hip and then moved away, slinging an arm around Jehan and pushing them towards the center of the space. “I didn’t know the police got involved with art auctions,” he observed loudly. 

“That’s correct, sir, but I’m sure you noticed the…odd event that took place tonight.”

“Well, you’re right, but I still don’t understand? Considering my friend here just had a literal record sale for a living non-male artist, I would like to take them out for drinks, but I suppose they can be available. Speaking of, here’s the press now.” Everyone turned to look where Grantaire had gestured out the window at the reporters rushing to the gallery door. Enjolras’s mother had turned white, and he wondered if it was from the night’s disaster or from being forced to reconsider her views on the gender binary; he couldn’t be sure which would distress her more.

In less than a minute, Grantaire had organized everyone around Jehan so they could give an impromptu press conference, which was interrupted five minutes in when the rest of their friends arrived in a blast of sound and joy. Enjolras mixed in with them and clapped enthusiastically for Jehan. He wasn’t sure at what point the police officer had given up, but given that he didn’t think Grantaire had committed an actual crime, he supposed she had better things to do than hang around a fancy gallery all night. 

Grantaire found him again when they spilled out to the street, with Courfeyrac, and, by extension Combeferre, bearing Jehan along at the front of the mob. Enjolras checked no undesirable ears were listening. “Can I get some sort of explanation for all that?”

“What’s there to explain?” Grantaire asked cheerfully. Enjolras gave him a look. “OK, listen, I was going to surprise you by ruining your parents’ thing with my little stunt – no, you of all people are not allowed to bring up the police thing – and then, no matter who actually bought it, we could donate the proceeds in their name to the charity of your choice, by which I mean the one they would hate the most.” He shrugged. “But then when I realized Jehan had set that sales record, there was no way I could overshadow that. Them getting credit is way more important than pissing off your parents.” 

Enjolras stopped walking and took both of Grantaire’s hands in his. “I love you, you know that?” Grantaire leaned up to kiss his nose. 

“I accept payment in cuddles.”

“When we get home?” Enjolras asked and offered his arm for Grantaire so they could catch up with their friends. 

“When we get home,” Grantaire agreed, “though I’ll have to charge you interest.”

**Author's Note:**

> I will go to my grave wondering what purpose the orange serves in the opening sex scene of Versailles.


End file.
